alien drifter

I went to my second meeting of the Virginia Writer's Club. It's was great. Read my reaction. I now have a folder filled with manuscripts to read.

I have a huge collection of music: tapes, records (33 1/2 rpm!), CDs. I've quit trying to find something from my collection to listen to. I just grab blindly. It's working. Every piece of music I've got (except one) in my collection is there because I like it. So, no point really deliberating. I can't remember half the stuff I have. So I just pick. Right now I'm listening to Bill Cosby "Why is there air?" at 33 1/2. Yes, I have a record player, and yes, I still use it.

On his iTunes exclusive album, Sting talks about remembering when and where in his life he was when he read a book. For me it's music. I first heard Bill Cosby at a friend's house. Well, a friend of a friend. My friend, Roy, took me to visit some friends of his who lived in a duplex upstairs from the man I had a serious crush on. The idea was that he might come up as he sometimes did, and I would be there, causal like. I don't remember a word of the conversation but I remember listening to this record. My dream guy never appeared.

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is an album with very clear memories for me. I hadn't heard it yet, or maybe I had heard one song on the radio. I was in high school. I saved my allowance money so I could get it. On the way home in the VW bus sitting next to my mother, who was driving, held the album in both hands in front of me thinking, "I've got it! It's here!" The world could end now. I had the album. I sat in a daze reading the cover, front and back, over and over. Wow.